


The Pyrokinetic Soul

by UndeniablyAries



Category: Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Elemental Magic, F/M, Gay Male Character, M/M, Magical Realism, Multi, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:33:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27812326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UndeniablyAries/pseuds/UndeniablyAries
Summary: In a plane of existence inhabited by ancient, elemental souls, there is eternal power. Outside of this plane however, is the human realm. Earth. Where the elemental souls need a host in order to survive. In taking a host, the elemental soul grants their human extraordinary power.Ignus, the pyrokinetic or fire soul, loathes the Weathered Plane and seeks to reside within the human realm. In finding other souls on Earth who have made a similar choice, Ignus discovers that these souls are not so friendly. How will Ignus adapt to the unforgiving human world and the evil souls that live amongst them?Oliver Sinclair, a transgender man, awakens at the scene of his father and brother's death in utter confusion. When Ignus awakens within him, the real chaos begins for Oliver.
Relationships: Oliver x Bethany, Oliver x Callie





	1. Prologue

_~In the Weathered Plane._

_5 years ago._

A bolt of white light seemed to streak across the crimson sky, illuminating the scattered mess of black clouds that loomed ominously about. The smell of rain hung heavy in the air and thunder rumbled lowly from off in the distance. Though the lush, green foliage seemed to do just fine without the rain, the soul that tended to the flowers seemed fairly pleased at the prospect of the approaching storm. This mass of glowing green light that slowly shaped itself into something humanoid passed by the flowers, and when it waved a hand over the tulips, they immediately responded—standing upright, vibrant and full of life.

"Terra," a low voice spoke, seeming to echo and carry powerfully across the clearing.

"Yes, Umbra?" The green soul responded in a pitch that mirrored tinkling bells. It turned to face the direction that the deeper voice had come from in order to better eye up the shadow soul—a tangle of black wisps made up into the form of a child.

"Enough with the flowers," Umbra, the shadow soul replied. "Come, sit with me. There is an exciting battle taking place in the human realm."

"Is it Ignus, again?" the green soul, Terra, asked and Umbra's voice seemed to hum in agreement.

"Will he be returning soon?" Terra questioned, moving now to go sit beside the shadow soul that nestled itself in a bed of lilacs nearby. The flowers around it seemed to wilt as Umbra settled beside them.

"Perhaps," Umbra seemed to purr, holding up his hands and conjuring a large shard of glass that resembled a window pane between them. "His human host is dying."

The Watchglass began to fog up immediately as the two souls focused on it. Smoke swirled within it before shifting into the image of a human man. He was lying on the ground, his face cut wide open and bleeding profusely as he struggled to stand again.

"Look there, though," Terra pointed, watching the image in the glass pan out to see another human man hiding beside a large building. This one looked similar to the man who was face down on the ground—dark hair and striking blue eyes. He had a weapon in his hands, one of those firearms that the humans had so devastatingly created many years ago. "If the host of Ignus dies now, there is another there that he can just use."

Umbra made a sound that mimicked a growl, rumbling lowly across the clearing now.

"Yes, there is another, but look closer, Terra," the shadow soul offered the pane to the green soul. "Their souls are not the same. That human would reject Ignus. The fiery soul of Ignus would burn that human up."

Terra watched closely, seeing the man on the ground finally cease his struggle. His blue eyes were wide—as if they were looking at something further away that startled him.

"Sangre was victorious, then?" Terra asked, watching a blond human man begin walking away from the scene. "And Ignus?"

"Ignus comes home or he will die in the earth realm," Umbra flatly responded, as Terra seemed to lean closer to the glass to observe what happened next.

The dead man on the ground began to glow a color that resembled the dull shade of a dying flame. From the man's mouth that had fallen open, a sliver of red-orange light crawled out. The man who had been hiding around the side of the building now emerged, blue eyes wide with shock. Though he appeared unafraid and just in awe, he lifted the pistol in his hands and pointed it at the soul that now floated above the dead man.

"That is the dead man's offspring," Umbra explained, and Terra nodded in understanding. "Though it matters little for Ignus. That man is not a match for Ignus, despite the fact that this man is the offspring of the previous host. Ignus is a hopeful fool, though. Ignus will try to enter that man to claim him as a host."

Umbra's words became true as the mass of orange light suddenly rushed at the dark-haired man's face. This man squeezed off a shot from his pistol, the sound so loud that Terra believed it may shatter their Watchglass. The bullet practically melted in midair, boiling down and falling to the ground before it could even reach the pyrokinetic's soul that still hovered close to that man. The gun fell from his hand just as the fire elemental, Ignus, flew at his mouth.

"NO!"

This low, but feminine voice seemed to shatter the stillness of the scene before them. The glass panned out and revealed another human—an average-sized woman with fluffy, black curls and the same bright blue eyes that these other two human men had.

Exactly as Umbra predicted, the man collapsed to the ground, his body bending and writhing as his feet slowly caught fire. The flames licked up his body, eventually reaching his torso and throat as the screams he had emitted began to die off. That woman had attempted to run to the man, but she stopped short when she realized that it was too late for him. She dropped down to her knees beside the older dead man on the ground and watched in horror as the human before her sluggishly burned. She turned her head and wretched, vomiting suddenly at the inevitable stench that likely clung to the air around her while tears streamed down her face.

That orange-red light slithered out from the now-charred body on the ground and turned slowly to face the crying woman. She immediately stopped crying, trying to stand and back away quickly.

"Stay back," her voice hissed, but the pyrokinetic soul rushed her. Ignus struck her, making her topple backwards and her back arched as she began to scream. She clawed at her chest and face, undoubtedly feeling the scorch of the fire soul's takeover. Umbra made a surprised sound, leaning forward to look closer at the scene in the glass.

"I don't believe it," the shadow soul murmured.

"What?" Terra demanded, trying to scoot closer to Umbra and get a better look at the Watchglass.

"That human," Umbra slowly managed. "She's a perfect match for Ignus. The best host for Ignus. Likely the most perfect one on Earth for the pyro."

Terra could see their souls now, an orange and a silver one twisting together within the body of that human and gradually melting down into one. Soft tendrils of red light snaked out and around the fused soul as it settled back into place deep within the chest of the human's ethereal body. Her physical body now collapsed to the ground—breathing heavily and still gripping at her own chest. She seemed to relax at last, her body sprawled amongst the street. Those vivid blue eyes closed now and she went to rest as all the humans do. The orange streaks within her soul slowly faded out.

"Ignus goes dormant?" Terra asked, voice betraying confusion.

"That fight with Sangre took a lot of energy," Umbra explained. "Ignus will rest now and then re-awaken in that perfect host and likely try to hunt Sangre again."

"But why do they fight?" Terra demanded. "Surely it would be easiest for them both to just come back and reside here, where we cannot die, are all-powerful, and can coexist in harmony. There is no room for us elemental souls on Earth and we would only upset the balance of the peaceful lives of those humans."

"Some elemental souls do not like it here, Terra," Umbra told the green soul. "They long to expand the limits of their power, and for that to happen, they cannot be in this plane of existence, where we are restricted to our base elemental abilities. Some of them also have taken a liking to the human realm and humans within it. They feel as though they can find a place to belong there and will jump from host to host in order to make a life there, as Ignus has always done."

Terra remained quiet, still not entirely understanding why one would give up the safety, security, and power of their plane of existence that had been crafted explicitly for the elemental souls.

"I wonder though," Umbra continued, musing quietly. "How things will change for Ignus once he awakens to that perfect host."

"Only time will tell," Terra responded, and Umbra nodded.

"Until then, we wait."


	2. One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5 years have passed now since the incident that was witnessed by the elemental souls within the Weathered Plane. We are back following the story of our hero in the mortal realm.

_~In the Human Realm_

_Present day._

_Three years of practice and I still suck at giving myself these damn things,_ I thought bitterly to myself as I carefully pulled the syringe from my thigh and tossed it in the large, empty laundry detergent bottle that was labeled "Sharps." I quickly cleaned the blood droplets that began leaking from the injection site and placed a Spider-Man themed band-aid over it just before pulling my dark jeans back up.

I glanced around my small apartment and grimaced at the mess.

 _I should totally clean all this up,_ I thought. _But I also should be doing my chemical reaction engineering homework._

Unfortunately, the thought of both of those things made me physically groan lowly to myself before grabbing my gym bag near the door along with my keys.

 _So, I choose neither,_ I thought with a wicked chuckle. _Those will be problems for later. For now, boxing!_

It was cool outside, autumn's crisp breeze feeling soothing on my overheated skin. Each step towards the gym that was up the road me grinning even wider than before. Boxing was the one thing that I found myself constantly looking forward to, and now that I had advanced beyond my basic lessons and had begun learning Muay Thai, I was eager to get back into the ring. More than anything, though, I wanted to compete and try my hand at fighting some of the other guys in the gym that boxed.

I entered through the doors of this massive place and headed immediately to the men's locker room. A few guys murmured hellos to me as I passed them while they worked on machines or treadmills, and I gave casual nods back in response.

Once inside the locker room, I dropped my bag on the small bench and stripped out of my jeans to throw on some workout shorts. After peeling my shirt off to change into one of my worn, workout ones, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror that drew me closer to it.

The scars on my chest seemed smaller and lighter than normal—perhaps this was me finally getting comfortable with my body. Being a transgender man, the mirror had been my ancient enemy ever since I could remember. Lately though, after I moved to a new, more progressive city far away from the cornfield that I grew up in and essentially starting anew here, the mirror did not seem quite as daunting. Especially now that I had three years of testosterone injections under my belt and was a year post-op from top surgery. I passed for a cis dude pretty well, for the most part.

My face had angled out a bit and looked almost nice with my gently tanned skin and bright blue eyes. I cut those long, awful black curls a while ago and have a much easier time dealing with the undercut that I now sport. Working out regularly while on testosterone allowed me to slim down and bulk up with muscle much better. I was stronger and faster than I used to be, and I just generally felt more energetic.

Just as I prepared to go back to my bag, a low voice sounded from somewhere in the room, making me jump slightly.

 _You are much different than I remember you,_ the voice commented, and I whirled around to scan the room for whoever was here now.

There was nobody here except for me.

I even began looking underneath benches and around the corner in the showers. Nothing—just me, myself, and I alone in the locker room.

"This is why when people offer me drugs, I say no," I muttered to myself, rolling my eyes. "I hallucinate on my own without them."

 _You were female before,_ that voice suddenly sounded again, making me jump again and swear.

"Okay, whoever is in here, come out now," I hissed, feeling myself getting warm and pissed at whoever was here obviously playing a joke on me. "Quit hiding, come out and I maybe won't kick your butt."

_I am not hiding. I am right here._

My eyes desperately scanned the room, but still, there was nobody here. This had to be my imagination or something. I shook my head and turned back to the mirror.

_I am inside of you._

"Gross," I mumbled, leaning closer and noticing a strange band of orange-brown color now encircling my blue iris. "What in the fuck is this—"

_We are one. I am awake now._

The room suddenly felt much warmer. I broke out in a sweat almost instantly, and I tugged at my collar and attempted to fan myself with my shirt.

"I'm not feeling so hot, well I am but, you know," I murmured, trying to move to sit down on the nearest bench. Unfortunately, I did not make it that far. That weird voice that I kept hearing broke out into laughter and startled me. I was too weak to prevent myself from tripping over my own feet and I toppled to the tiled floor.

Now that I was completely drenched in sweat, I decided to try and crawl to the showers.

"Come on," I told myself. "One arm in front of the other."

I inched along the floor and when I moved the next arm in front of my face, I felt searing pain shoot from the elbow and into all of my fingertips. My arm suddenly sparked and bright orange flames licked up the skin that extremity.

"Oh my god, fuck!"

I leapt to my feet and hurried into the shower, ignoring the way the room dangerously swirled around me and I turned the water on in the closest shower to full blast and on the coldest setting. When the forceful droplets touched my arm, I screamed.

So much pain, unlike anything I had ever experienced before, engulfed me. It was fire, literal fire, burning me but strangely doing no damage to the skin. Then the water put it out and left behind a sizzling trail of new agony that was frigid, damp discomfort. It made me almost miss the blistering heat.

"Oliver?" a familiar voice called out from the locker room entrance. "Is that you in there, buddy? Everything okay? I thought I heard a scream."

 _Ray,_ I recognized the voice of the gym's owner and the man who gave me my boxing lessons. He knows I am trans and is usually exceptionally decent about giving me privacy when I am in the locker room and he hears a shower going. Though I pretty much pass as a man from the waist up, I do not pass at all below the belt. I spend a lot of time keeping my clothes on and avoiding the showers when I am here for that reason.

"Yeah, I'm okay, Ray," I called back. "I just slipped in the shower. Everything's fine."

"Be more careful, please," he answered. "I'm going to walk away now. Yell if you need me, though."

I stared back down at my arm, wondering what that could have possibly been about. I caught fire, for fuck's sake. It wasn't as if I carried flammable objects on me. I have nothing that could have combusted and I was literally just standing there.

"And on that note," I finally decided. "I'm going home to go lay down, because clearly I am under the weather."

I walked back over to the bench where my bag remained and quickly packed up my things I had started dragging out earlier before the fire incident. In just walking that brief distance across the room, I felt much too hot all of a sudden. I tried hard to rationalize what could possibly be happening. I used to be freezing cold all the time before I started testosterone, but after I was on it for a while, it sped my metabolism up and I turned into a little space heater and was usually fairly warm and could overheat easily if I got worked up. This however, seemed excessive, and that did not explain the fact that my arm randomly burst into flames and looks completely unharmed now. Not even my arm hair came out singed after that. None of it made sense.

I exited the locker room with my bag over my shoulder and gave Ray a nod. He gave me a small wave from where he stood from behind the counter out front, but he still looked rather worried about me. His eyebrows and nose were scrunched up in that anxious face he made whenever I was about to do something stupid, like stepping in front of punch or kick from another man.

"Headed home already?" He questioned and I weakly shrugged.

"I'm feeling a bit down," I responded. "Too hot and kind of dizzy. I'm going to head home and rest for the evening. I'll probably be back tomorrow."

"Take it easy, kid," he told me. "You work too hard, sometimes."

"How else am I supposed to get better?" I said with a smirk and he merely rolled his eyes, though he returned my goofy grin with his own.

"See you, Oliver."

It was still a bit chilly out, which felt like an absolute blessing. If it weren't a crime and I was not so ashamed of my body, I would strip and run home completely naked just because the wind felt so amazing against my flushed skin.

When I made it back to my apartment and locked myself inside, I sighed at the mess that greeted me as I dropped my gym bag on the floor right beside the door. There were so many empty bottles all over the counter in my small kitchenette that I could have made a replica of the kitchen in a different room out of them.

"Maybe later," I muttered, walking around the corner and into the hallway towards my bedroom. "I'm supposed to be resting, after all." I pulled my shirt and shorts off, leaving just my boxers on, and I flopped down onto my bed and buried my face in my pillow.

"Least I'm not hearing things anymore," I mumbled, turning over sleepily to grab my phone and set an alarm for my nap.

_Would you like to?_

It was that voice again. This time it shattered the silence of my apartment and I was just so tired of all of the bizarreness that had occurred today that it left me with exactly one course of action that I could see.

I screamed.


	3. Two

_What the hell is wrong with me?_

I thought this as I forced myself to sit up in bed, and I covered my face to try and soothe myself as my body began to heat up uncomfortably again.

 _You can't get worked up so easily,_ that deep voice responded. _You have to calm down. Otherwise, you'll light up._

I groaned.

"I'm talking to my auditory hallucination now, cool. I can do that. All the cool kids do that," I sardonically muttered. "Quick question though, voice inside my head. What the fuck is going on? Who or what are you?"

 _I tried to tell you earlier, but you freaked out and caught fire,_ the voice flatly replied. _I am a part of you. I have been for years, but I just now woke up. I give you these gifts—my gifts._

"The fire?" I questioned and the voice seemed to purr at that.

 _I am Ignus, known as the fire soul or the pyrokinetic's soul,_ the voice answered. _I am one of the oldest elemental souls out there. I was one of the first souls to ever exist._

"Congrats?" I spoke, moving to sit at the edge of the bed. "What does this have to do with me though? Like, why are you here, dude? You can't be making me burst into flames at random times. That's not cool."

 _I need a human host in order to survive in this plane of existence—in your Earth realm,_ the voice, Ignus, I guess, explained.

"Cool, I reiterate—why me?"

_Our souls are a perfect match for each other, Ignus continued. We are almost on the same soul wavelength. You are the most perfect host I have ever encountered. Even better than my last host. I jumped to you after my previous host, Jasper Sinclair, died._

My stomach flipped at that name and admission.

"Wait, you knew my dad?" I demanded. "You...lived in my dad? Until he died?"

_Yes._

"Then you jumped into me after he died?" My thoughts trailed on, "Why? Because I was the closest thing around, is that it? This was five years ago. I was there when that guy murdered my dad. I was there when my brother just spontaneously caught—"

The realization hit me like a punch straight in the gut.

"It was you," I softly said. "You made my brother die like that. Why? They said he must have had something flammable on him that combusted when he fired his gun, but it was you all along."

It took a moment before that voice rang out again, but it was softer this time. Almost as if it sounded sad or regretful.

 _It was me,_ Ignus admitted. _When my previous host died, I panicked. We souls cannot reside here on Earth for very long without a host, otherwise we will die. I saw your brother and assumed that since he was the son of my previous host that he and I would also match, and everything would be fine. His body rejected me, though, and he caught fire. I tried to escape him, but by the time I realized that we weren't a positive match and detached myself from his soul, it was too late._

So many thoughts and memories that I had worked so hard to move past with plenty of therapy all suddenly came crashing back down on me. I almost wished I could cry still, but I had done enough of that before I started testosterone and it made me unable to now.

 _I am truly sorry for the pain that I have undoubtedly caused you—pain that I was not even around to help you deal with,_ Ignus softly told me.

"What more could you have possibly done for me?" I asked, words more bitter sounding than I had initially intended.

 _I am a part of you, Oliver,_ Ignus gently explained. _I see what you; hear what you hear; and feel what you feel. Your pain is my own pain. You are my window the world, to the human experience on this planet. Had I been awake, I would have felt your anguish as my own and we could have worked to get past it together. This is how it shall be from now on._

I remained silent for a moment, trying to piece together the thoughts that were whirling around inside of my mind. Being sad about the death of my father and brother would never bring them back. Being mad at Ignus for what happened also would not bring my family back. Sure, Ignus was there, but technically this all happened because of that man who murdered my dad. If that man would not have done that, my dad would still be here. Ignus would still be tied to my dad, and my brother would also still be here.

"Who was that man?" I suddenly demanded. "That man who killed my father—your previous host, Jasper Sinclair?"

 _I do not know his human host's name, but that is another elemental soul,_ Ignus gravely responded. _Sangre. The blood soul. My oldest enemy; we have fought for centuries._

"Why?" I questioned. "What did he do?"

_We come from a different plane of existence, Ignus began. The Weathered Plane. It is home to all of the elemental souls and it is the origin of our creation. There we are immortal and all-powerful. There is a soul that is a specific personification of an element for every element you can think of. Even more than the traditional four elements—earth, air, water, and fire. Though those main four were the firstborn of the elemental souls. I am the fire soul, I was second born, after air._

"What are some of the other elemental souls?" I queried, leaning back on the bed to get comfy for this indisputably wild story.

_There are lightning, thunder, ice, shadow, sound, blood, and light. Those are the few that I can think of in this moment, Ignus answered. Where are they now? I am uncertain. Some of them reside in the Weathered Plane still, others have left to find hosts on other planes of existence, as I did._

"Why'd you leave?" The curiosity was burning away at me, metaphorically speaking this time. "If you are all-powerful and immortal in the Weathered Plane, then why would you ever want to leave to come here? I mean, Earth kind of sucks these days. Plus, you can actually get hurt or worse here."

 _It is a different living practice here,_ Ignus wavered, trying his best to explain. _In the Weathered Plane, we souls shape the world with our power. Yes, my volcano that I reside in is comfortable for me, but that is all I would ever know if I stayed there. Here, I am free to live and experience this world around me however I want—through my host, that is. And I am much happier with that._

"I understand," I murmured. "Even trapped within me, it's still more free and less demanding than what you had before?"

_Precisely._

I sat deep in thought for another moment, before reverting back to my initial thought and question I had.

"Tell me about Sangre," I inquired. "Why have you fought him for so long? What was so important that you had my father, a banker, involved in that fight?"

 _To put it in simple terms, some of the elemental souls are not quite as nice as I am,_ Ignus lowly responded. _Sangre left the Weathered Plane with plans to enslave much of humanity. Which, given his hideous powers, would not be a difficult task if he had enough time and little resistance. There are other souls who reside on Earth who also have more nefarious ideas of what life here should be like for us souls. They were not content with just having the Weathered Plane to bend to their will, and they seek out expansion of dominion through conquest._

"And you resist those souls? You fight them to prevent them from taking over?" I figured, and Ignus hummed deeply in agreement. "Even in your human hosts? Ones who have no sort of training whatsoever? How does that happen? Have you ever defeated any of these evil souls before?"

 _Defeat is a relative term,_ Ignus said with something that sounded like a chuckle. _You really won't like this, but even on Earth, there is still a high chance of a soul surviving death. We merely just have to jump into a new host that is even a little bit suitable for us. We just have to match with a human's soul in a small way in order for the bond to take. You saw me die five years ago in your father, and yet, here I am alive and well within you._

"Fuck, so this battle is eternal?" I groaned, seeing my own shocked face peering back at me from the vanity mirror across the room. The laugh that Ignus uttered seemed to deepen.

 _So, it seems,_ Ignus finally responded. _But, if an elemental soul were to die on Earth by means of their host dying, and there was not a suitable new host around, then the soul would not survive outside of the human's body for more than ten minutes._

"So, we just have to beat Sangre and make sure that there's nobody else around that he could jump to?"

I froze.

I have no idea where that thought suddenly came from or why I actually said it out loud. Who was I kidding? I am a twenty-five-year-old college kid. Hell, I would not even have the muscles and the strength that I did have without my masculine hormones that I take every week. I have no formal training of any sort, and I lack a serious, mean bone in my body. Sure, I make jokes and talk tough a lot, but I would never dream of following through on a threat.

 _I intend to someday,_ Ignus finally spoke, interrupting my train of outlandishly inappropriate thoughts. _Besides, you are the most perfect host that I have ever bonded with. We are almost a perfect match for each other. You could bring out new power and strength that I have never seen from myself before. Working my powers should also come more natural to you. I could show you._

This was all way too much.

I merely shook my head in response.

"I have no clue what to say to that," I weakly managed, gulping nervously. "Do I have a choice? You're stuck to me now until I die."

 _You always have a choice, Oliver,_ Ignus responded. _I could find a different host and split from you to go to them in the event we find someone else on the street somewhere that matches enough with me._

I should tell him to do that. He should just go find someone much stronger than I to continue his little war against the wicked souls that have overstayed their welcome here on Earth.

 _It would be a shame, though,_ Ignus lowly continued, a hint of something new laced into his voice. _I doubt I'll find another host as perfect as you on this planet. It seems like a waste of power and talent..._

"Now, wait just a goddamn minute," I growled, sitting upright in bed at once. Ignus must not have heard me, because that strange soul just kept rambling on, edging closer to me with the knife that his words were acting as.

 _I believe that without you, I would not stand a chance of actually eradicating Sangre from this world,_ Ignus was saying. _Your father and brother may never know justice because of this..._

"Oh, for fuck's sake," I grumbled. "Stop it, you win. You can stay."

Laughter seemed to fill the entire room, but I knew that nobody would hear it aside from me.

 _That did not take long,_ the fire soul seemed to taunt, and I rolled my eyes.

"No, because I'm a nice guy," I snapped back. "And I'm not doing this for justice for my dad or brother either. That's an overused backstory motive. I'm just doing this to get these freakish things off my planet. I don't exactly like society as it is right now, but I do like being alive and not enslaved to some super powerful, ancient beings."

 _A fair enough reason if there ever was one,_ Ignus lowly commented.

I got up and went to go throw a shirt back on, along with some shorts before moving out of the bedroom and into my messy living room.

"Well, you better start explaining these powers of yours that I now luckily get to inherit," I pressed.

_I think it would be much better if I showed you, instead._


End file.
